Ransom K. Fern turned away from the window. His face was a troubling combination of youth and age. There was no sign in the face of any intermediate stages in the aging process, no hint of the man of thirty or forty or fifty who had been left behind. Only adolescence and the age of sixty were represented. It was as though a seventeen-year-old had been withered and bleached by a blast of heat.
Kurt Vonnegut, The Sirens of Titan
David Foster Wallace dans l’ascenseur tout contre. Qui a foutu (...)